Whiskey (Slightly AU)
by kaylers
Summary: [Trigger warning- suicide attempt (hence the M rating)] Charlie is done. She drowns out the world by drinking from a glass, in the form of whiskey. She knows she's reckless. She knows she'll eventually push too far and end up hurting herself. Who will stop her from going over the edge? (It's a bit sad, but don't worry- I like to write happy endings. That, and #charloe)
1. you deserve better

"You deserve better, you know." Charlie winced. She'd know that voice anywhere- too bad she wasn't in the mood to hear it.

"Shut the hell up, Bass. I'm not having this conversation now." She went back to the cup of amber liquid sitting in front of her- the one thing keeping her sane. Of course, Bass wasn't having that.

"Why are you doing this to yourself, Charlie?" She shook her head, laughing cynically.

"Why am I doing this to myself, huh? Why? What a funny word...Why? Why am I drinking myself into a damn coma? It must run in the family." Charlie got her whiskey affinity from her uncle Miles.

"I call bull. What's on your mind?" Charlie's already heated glare turned cold.

"Look, _Monroe,_ you have no right to call bull here. You don't know me. Now piss off, and let me drink myself silly." He simply shook his head and sat down next to her, not saying a word.

"He wouldn't want this, Charlie."

"Well, He's not here." _He being Miles. _

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you have to lose your shit just because he's gone."

"Oh, really? The guy who hasn't left my side in two years is _gone_, Monroe. I don't even know if he's alive. Would you be able to stay sane?"

"I don't think drinking myself into a coma is the best way to stay sane."

"Who said I do?"

"The half empty whiskey bottle in front of you begs to differ, Charlie." _That's it_ she thought _I'm not going to sit here and listen to this. _Charlie stood up abruptly, knocking the dilapidated bar stool over in the process. "Stay the hell away from me, Monroe."

With that, she was gone.

~o0o~

Sebastian Monroe anxiously ran his fingers through his hair. _That damn girl will be the death of me._ Charlie was gone for most of the night, only coming back the early the next morning after the accident. When she burst through the door, she was coated in dirt and scrapes. Now, he was standing here in shock- and not just because she actually came back. Charlie looked like she had been on the losing end of a fight with a badger.

"Shit, Charlie, what happened?" In response, he got a grunt and an angry girl walking straight past him, up the stairs of the house. _Someone's hungover._ Bass knew that going after her while she's in this state would e futile. This was their familiar routine, ever since Miles disappeared a little over a week ago. Charlie would drown herself in alcohol, get into a heated argument with Monroe when he came to comfort her, and then proceed to storm out of the kitchen the second he tried to get her to stop.

The worst part was, Monroe didn't even know where Charlie went at night. _She could be getting attacked...or worse._ He shook his head, trying to clear it of the thoughts that plagued him. _No, Bass, don't think about it. Just try to stop it. Miles would want you to protect her._ Sighing, he realized he had to do something. As pissed as she would be, he had to go confront her. Life couldn't go on this way.

He turned around and made his way up the stairs, walked down the hallway, and stopped at Charlie's door. He held his balled up hand over the door, about to knock, when he heard barely audible sniffling and incoherent mumbling. He pressed his ear against the door, and he could hear Charlie talking to herself.

"Miles...why did you have to just...disappear...and leave me with him...it's my fault...I made you want to leave..." In between her crying, this was the only sound coming from the quiet room. Bass felt a tug in his chest, listening to her talk this way. They didn't have a great relationship, though. He could never replace Miles, and he was terrible at comforting people.

He pried his ear off the door and walked back down the hallway- he knew nothing he could say would make this any easier.

~o0o~

Charlie Matheson didn't know how long she had been sitting, mumbling to herself on her bed. She just stared at the paisley pattern of the wallpaper as she tried to make sense of everything. _Miles is gone. He could be dead. Instead of being a half decent niece, I'm drowning myself in whiskey._ She felt powerless- a rare feeling for her. Everything about this situation was wrong. Miles should be here, with her, not off somewhere unfamiliar, possibly dead. She pressed her head into her pillow, crying silent tears.

Every night this week, she followed the same routine. She'd down half a bottle of whiskey, get yelled at by Monroe, and promptly leave the house. As far as she knew, he didn't even know where she went. Hell, even Charlie didn't know where she was going. She just knew that she walked aimlessly around the countryside until she passed out for the night (often in some bush or under some tree). It wasn't a good habit, it wasn't even a safe habit- and Charlie didn't give a damn. The walls were smothering her. _Something has to change. _

And with that, her most reckless plan ever made its way into her head. Instead of walking around aimlessly tonight, she'd walk with a purpose. Well, a purpose and a survival kit. She had to find Miles.

~o0o~

Monroe knew something was off the minute Charlie walked down the stairs in a better mood. She even _smiled_ at him. "Hey, Bass, I'm just gonna have a quick drink and go to bed." He knew it was going to end in her storming out of the house, but she wasn't his to control. He had no say- her even giving him the heads up that she planned to drink was more of a courtesy than anything.

"Just...don't overdo it Charlie. I know that you think I'm scum, but I'm scum obligated to look out for you." A pained expression flashed across her face, disappearing as quickly as it came. She walked wordlessly into the kitchen.

An hour later, Monroe realized he should probably go check up on her. When he walked into the kitchen, though, there was no Charlie. That, and his backpack was missing- along with his sword, 2 bags of jerky, a reusable water bottle, and the blanket that had been sitting on the chair in the kitchen. _Unbelievable. _

~o0o~

The dry afternoon air hit Charlie the second she stepped out of the humid house her and Monroe had been living in. _This is it. I'm going to save Miles, and that's that._ She took her first step off the porch and continued down the trail away from the house, not once looking back. She had a mission- and she would not be coming back without Miles. Hell, she wouldn't be alive without Miles. _No. All these Miles thoughts are just distracting and unhealthy._ She pushed the thoughts from her mind and pressed on down the road.

Not long into her trip, Charlie heard the distant sound of feet pounding against the path. _Trouble already._ She took Monroe's sword from her belt and dove into the brush. No one would be taking advantage of her, not as long as she could help it. The footsteps grew increasingly closer, and she tucked farther into the brush. She knew she was hidden.

She waited for what felt like hours, until she heard the familiar _click_ of a bullet falling into the chamber of a gun. She felt the barrel of a gun pressed against her head.

A gruff voice began to speak. "Stand up, now. You are on patriot territory." She rose up slowly from her hiding place, one hand in the air and the other holding the sword at an odd angle.

"Drop the weapon." Reluctantly, she did as she was told. _This is happening, already? Damn whiskey messing with my senses. _She felt a pair of strong hands wrap around her shoulders, and then a painful burn on her wrists as someone tied them with rope.

"Walk." Defeated, she fell into step behind the soldiers. _This is it. I'm dead, and now I'll never know if Miles is alive._

Tears threatened to gather, but she blinked them away. _Weakness will get me killed. _

She knew because Miles told her so, back when they first went looking for Danny a year ago.

~o0o~

Monroe began to panic. Charlie wasn't _anywhere_ in the house. He'd checked the shed, the kitchen, the bathroom, and even behind the sofa. The girl was gone without leaving any clue of where she went. He had failed Miles, and broke his last promise to Rachel. Charlie was gone. He grabbed the old backpack he'd found while looking for Charlie, and the few supplies he'd found while searching the house and the grounds for her. If he wanted to get Charlie back, his only hope was to go looking for her himself.


	2. little miss sass

Monroe began walking down the path, his mind full of thoughts that made him want to scream. _What if I don't get to Charlie in time? What if I find her dead? No, Charlie is tough. But anything can happen...I can't think like this._ The war inside his head raged with each step he took. Charlie had the time advantage- he'd burned a lot looking for her. 2 hours, to be exact. She could be half way to Austin, for all he knew. _If she even wanted to visit Austin. She wants to find Miles._

He shook his head and continued the hike down the road. He figured that she'd continue down the trail from their house until she couldn't walk it anymore. Charlie was a direct person, much like he was. _Why over complicate things? _

~o0o~

Charlie sat slumped against a tree, her hope dwindling with each minute that went by. Three patriots sat at a nearby fire. She felt like they were challenging her to escape- something which would have been pointless. To them, she was just a suspicious girl deep in the forests of Texas. She just had to hope they hadn't found Monroe- as there would be no Miles coming to save her. _Hell, Monroe probably doesn't even know I left. _

The tears she had been holding since she was captured slowly made their way down her cheek. She knew that the second she made it to a processing center, they would recognize her from the wanted posters- they would kill her. _At least I might see Miles._

Her head was clouded with worry- there was no good way for this to end.

~o0o~

Monroe had been walking for a good while, when he came across the footsteps. The weren't small, but they weren't big either- they had a feminine shape to them. _They reminded him of Charlie's footsteps._ Monroe walked off to the side of the road, looking for any other indicator that Charlie may have been there. He searched for ten long minutes, and was about to give up, when he saw something familiar- it was a bottle cap. A bottle cap similar to the one on Charlie's bottle of whiskey.

He continued to look around the area where he'd found the cap, and he finally found more tracks. They led off into the woods, away from the trail. They had been there for awhile, as was apparent from the broken bits of brush around them, but they weren't _that_ old. Monroe figured something was better than nothing, and made his way down the tracks. He pulled his remaining sword, the one he always keeps on him, out of its sheath. If he was going to travel down a suspicious looking trail in an attempt to find his best friend's niece, he sure as hell wasn't going to go unarmed.

The trail continued for quite awhile, when he finally smelled the best thing he had in awhile- smoke. It was distant, but he knew it had to be from a campfire. He was nowhere near civilization. Monroe held on tighter to the hilt of his sword, and crept quietly across the forest floor. He had a feeling in his gut; he was near Charlie.

~o0o~

Charlie woke up in a state of confusion, before coming to her senses. It was night out at this point, and she was still tied to a tree. The group of patriot soldiers still sat near the campfire, but she had grown used to the uncomfortable feeling that surrounding her since her capture. She knew that, come morning, she would be either dead or on her way to a patriot prison. She needed a miracle.

She had been lucky so far, in that the patriots didn't try anything funny to mess with her. Her luck ran out, though. A young looking patriot- he couldn't have been more than 25- stalked over to where she sat tied to the tree.

"Well, well, well...coulda sworn you were gonna pull some Houdini shit with that determined look ya had earlier, but look at you- being a good little prisoner." She cringed, not liking where this was going. She kept quiet for the time being, though- snark would get her nowhere. These guys had guns, and all she had was a few crash courses in hand to hand combat with Miles. Out of nowhere, the patriot's fist connected to her face. Not the type of torment she was expecting, but it definitely beat the alternative.

"Oh, you can't move? Well, isn't that a pity." He hit her again, this time straight in the nose, and she felt blood trickle down her chin.

He laughed, a sound that would grace her nightmares later- assuming she would be alive later to _have_ nightmares.

"This is boring, prisoner. You could at least put up some sort of struggle!" He gave her an evil smirk, before he punched her twice more. At this point, she knew she was going to have one hell of a bruise in the morning. That, and she knew she had to stand up for herself. If she didn't, she was dead for sure. If she did, she was still more than likely dead. She couldn't foresee herself getting out of here.

"Look...at you...mr...pretty soldier boy...thinking you're tough...just because you can hit...a defenseless...girl..." She coughed a bit, but managed to say _something_, at least. The soldier wasn't pleased.

"Did I ask, for your snark?" Charlie smirked, knowing full well she'd regret it.

"You said...I...was...boring..and you know...my...snark and I...we're a package deal." The soldier boy shook his head, clicking his tongue in the most condescending way possible.

"You'll pay for that." She felt a hard punch to her temple, and black spots danced across her vision. The last thing Charlie felt before she passed out was searing pain in her forehead.

~o0o~

Monroe had been traveling down the trail for most of the afternoon. Finally, as night made its way across the sky, he saw the camp. He knew it was a patriot camp- he could recognize those ugly ass uniforms from a mile away. He sat in the brush, just outside the glow of the fire, watching and looking for Charlie. He couldn't see her, but some time later he saw a young looking patriot get up and walk over to a tree.

Monroe waited a couple minutes, thinking it might have been a bathroom break, but then he heard a voice.

"Well, well, well...coulda sworn you were gonna pull some Houdini shit with that determined look ya had earlier, but look at you- being a good little prisoner."

Monroe realized that unless this guy was grade A crazy, he probably wasn't talking to a tree. He circled around the back of the camp, still hidden, to a position where he had a better vantage point on the tree. What he saw made his blood run cold.

There, in front of the patriot, was Charlie.


	3. seeing red

Monroe watched intently. The patriot hadn't given him enough of a reason to blow his cover before he had a fully formed plan, but he was still worried. These guys were heartless bastards, all traces of their humanity drugged away in reconditioning camps. He heard the boy say a few more things to Charlie, before he punched her again. The sinister smirk on the boy's face made him sick. _He's the first to go once I have a plan._ Normally Monroe would have charged in, guns and swords blazing, but he was one sword down and without Miles to help. Hell, if Miles were here Charlie wouldn't _need_ help.

Monroe sat in the brush, every ounce of his restraint being put to the test as the boy took swing after swing at Charlie. The last straw came when she said something back to him. The exchange went on for a couple of minutes, and ended with Charlie being knocked out by the boy. He could tell the bastard did it by the fact that Charlie's head fell limp onto her shoulder, and the boy just walked away.

Once the boy was about 20 feet from the tree, Monroe made his move. At this point, he could just get Charlie and leave- but those patriots would be on the hunt once they realized she was gone. No, he would take her somewhere safe, and then come back to finish every last one of them off. If not to eliminate the threat, then because _those bastards hurt Miles' niece._ Monroe saw red. He wasn't amazingly close to Charlie, but he still felt protective of her. Miles had rubbed off on him.

Monroe slipped quietly over to the tree, careful to make no sound. Once he got there, it was _almost_ too dark to see. With the little bit of light emanating from the fire, he could see that Charlie was in rough shape. He tried to ignore that for the time being, and brought his sword around to the rope holding Charlie in place. Once her support was cut, she fell over with a quiet _plop_. _Yeah_ Monroe thought _She's definitely unconscious._ He picked her up as quietly as he could, and carried her about ten minutes away from the patriot camp. He could have sworn he saw her eyes flutter, and he was tempted to stay in case she woke up, but he knew there was work to do. He had to take down the bastards who hurt her.

~o0o~

Charlie woke up, her upper half sore from the soldier's punches. She felt weak, she couldn't even open her eyes all the way, but she felt like she was being carried. All she knew was everything hurt- and she felt like she was falling back into unconsciousness.

When Charlie woke up again, the pain wasn't as biting as before. She was on the floor of some shed or something- that much she could ascertain. She tried to prop herself up with her arm, but it gave out on her. The figure next to her must have noticed, as her field of view was soon filled with familiar dirty blonde curls and bright blue eyes. _Bass._

"Charlie! Oh thank everything...you're awake. Do you know how long you've been out?" Charlie's throat felt extremely dry, so all she could manage was a strangled "No." Bass must have noticed this, as he reached into his pack and pressed a water bottle to her lips. Her throat was so dry that the water almost hurt as it went down, but half a bottle later her throat felt fine.

"Charlie, you've been out for a day." _Wait...a day?_ She looked Bass dead in the eye, trying not to show how worried she really was.

"You're lying...I remember talking to that ass back at the patriot camp...and that's it. It feels like two hours ago." Bass's face fell.

"Charlie, I'm not a liar anymore...believe me, you've been out a day. I would know, I haven't left your side more than once." _He stayed?_ Charlie felt her mind clearing from the haze it had been in, and decided to mess with Bass.

"You left me ONCE? I could have died!" She was kidding of course, and didn't expect a straight answer from Bass, but she got one.

"Charlie, I only left so that I could finish off the bastards who hurt you. That, and I wanted my other sword back."

"Bass...you did that?" An unknown emotion flashed across his eyes- _remorse? Guilt? It wasn't like him to feel anything after a fight._ He simply shook his head.

"Yeah, yeah I did. I didn't want any more trouble from them." He expected her to be angry, to call him a murderer.

"Thank you. For protecting me, I mean." Her answer definitely surprised him, as was evident by the slightest 'o' formation on his mouth. It was quickly replaced by a weak, unconvincing smile.

"I promised Miles I'd protect you, and that promise doesn't expire just because he's gone."


	4. drink it down

In the days after she woke up, Charlie could do nothing but sit in a catatonic state. Her injuries were healing well enough, but the memories of everything that happened were overwhelming. Between her mother leaving her as a child, her dad and brother's deaths, Miles' disappearance, being captured by the patriots..Charlie was close to her breaking point. the weight of everything was overwhelming her; she was about three seconds away from a full on mental breakdown. _No. This won't do. I don't care what Monroe says, I'm going to drink myself to death. _

She didn't see things getting better. Or at least, she didn't think she did. Charlie really didn't know _what_ she was thinking. With her deadly new plan set to motion inside the darkest parts of her mind, she set off for the kitchen. She had some drinking to do.

~o0o~

Monroe sat on the porch, staring down the trail. He didn't really have anyone to talk to, as Charlie hadn't left her room since the incident. He only saw her when he brought her food- which half the time she didn't even want. He had to sit in her room for the duration of her meal, or she would just retreat back into her head, not coming back out until the next time he brought her food or checked on her.

Hell, even when she wasn't sitting there frozen she still didn't say much. He hadn't heard her say more than four words in the past week. _Not including the times he heard her murmuring to herself at night, when she thought he couldn't hear her._ Oh, he could hear her. He was careful to not let her out of his sight much- he saw the same desperation in her as Miles saw in him all those years ago in the graveyard.

He was lost in thoughts, mostly worried ones about Charlie, when he heard footsteps, crashes, and loud swearing coming from inside. He quickly got up and went in to investigate- and was both surprised and extremely concerned at what he saw. Charlie was stumbling around the house , drunk off her ass, knocking things over. When she saw him, her face lit up into a grin.

"Bassaboo! Heeyyy!" She stumbled over to him, knocking several picture frames (which belonged to the house's old inhabitants) over in the process.

"Charlie, how much have you had to drink?" She wasn't a lightweight, despite how skinny she was. The girl could hold her liquor- if she was this inebriated, he knew she must have been drinking like a tank. She scrunched up her eyebrows, confused by even basic English.

"Well..uhhm...this many theses!" She held up two fingers on one hand, and an empty bottle of whiskey in another.

"Wait...You drank two bottles of whiskey?" She nodded excitedly, obviously happy with herself.

"Yeah! It burns like friggen' fire, but daaammmnn the high is ace!" She didn't even _sound_ like Charlie, and that wasn't just because she was slurring every other word. Bass knew he needed to do something, or else she was going to end up hurting herself. _Assuming she doesn't have alcohol poisoning or something._

"Charlie, honey, you need to come up with me, okay?" He hadn't called anyone _honey_ since his family died, but he had a soft spot for Charlie. That, and she was so drunk that any sort of harshness to his voice would probably result in her blubbering like a baby for the next six hours. Charlie looked at him, still smiling in a way that suggested she had no clue what was going on right now, before her face contorted into a grimace.

"Bassaboo..I don't feel so great." _Of course you don't, you've had two bottles of whiskey._ A few seconds later, her eyes rolled back and she passed out. Bass managed to catch her just before she hit the ground and proceeded to carry her up the stairs to her room. He put her on top of her bed, pulled a chair over to her bedside, and stayed there to make sure she'd be okay.

_Someone owed him some whiskey._

~o0o~

Charlie awoke, noticing a few things out of order. One- her head felt like there were patriots stabbing her repeatedly. Two- Sebastian Monroe was sitting right next to her bed, his head slumped over, sleeping. She propped herself up using her elbow, before turning her attention back to Bass.

"Hey, sleeping beauty- what's going on?" He didn't reply, so she grabbed her extra pillow and hit him with it until he woke up. He jumped and grabbed the bowie knife at his belt, already in a fighting stance. He relaxed once he realized no one was going to kill him, but glared at Charlie.

"What the hell was that for?"

"You were asleep, I was awake, I had questions!" He shook his head.

"You didn't have to hit me!"

"Could you just explain what happened?"

"I heard commotion last night when I was sitting on the porch, came inside, and you were pissed drunk." _Oh yeah._ The memories were still kind of hazy, but she remembered being drunk.

"That's it? Anything else you can give me to explain why I drank so much? You and I both know I'm not a lightweight!"

"Well, I asked you how much you'd had to drink, and you held two fingers up in one hand and an empty whiskey bottle in another. If I remember, you said 'This many theses!' And, judging by the fact that you could barely speak English, I'd agree with you. It's a wonder you don't have alcohol poisoning or something."

And then, she remembered her train of thought before her drinking binge, and a little bit past that. _I was trying to kill myself._

_I, Charlotte Matheson, officially feel like a disgrace._

~o0o~

Bass saw her face change once he told her a bit about what happened the night before. She looked spooked, like someone had told her the house was haunted or something.

"Charlie, what happened? What do you remember?" She stayed silent, deep in thought.

"Charlie, I'm not screwing around! What happened?" She looked him dead in the eyes, and followed up with words that made his heart drop.

"Bass...I tried to kill myself."


	5. coming clean

Monroe sat motionless, blinking. _Charlie tried to kill herself? What the hell?_ He'd known she was in rough shape, but this was beyond what he'd thought. Yeah, he saw that she was growing increasingly desperate and volatile, but _this?_ Charlie was one of the strongest people he'd ever met- and here she was, confessing to a suicide attempt. It made him sick. Not as sick as the fact that he'd missed the signs, though. He should have noticed how torn up she really was, how all the trauma had really affected her. He felt like her reaching this point was his fault.

"Bass?" Charlie brought him back to focus, her voice full of raw emotion.

"Charlie..why?" Tears started to well in her eyes; he needed to know what was the matter, and _fix it_, before she tried this again. _What if I'm not there next time?_ She shook her head, sniffling.

"I have no one left, Bass. My mom left when I was younger, came back, and left again." He remembered the day Rachel left, only a few months ago, on another harebrained scheme to turn the power back on. He and Miles took Charlie deer hunting to distract her from the fact.

"Danny died in that damn attack on the rebels in Annapolis. My dad was shot. Miles is _gone,_ and for all I know he could be dead too." Seeing her so upset over her dad and her brother reopened that bow of guilt he'd tried to keep locked up. He wasn't the same man as he was a year ago; Monroe had changed. Gone was the ruthless dictator (though he still resorted to ruthlessness when someone threatened Charlie or Miles), and in his place was a human being. Someone capable of feeling more than just lust for power. His train of thought was broken as Charlie continued to pour her broken heart out.

"I have _no one_ left, Bass. Everyone I've loved is just...they're gone. And I don't think they're ever coming back." Monroe remembered a similar conversation with Miles, all those years ago.

"Charlie, you have me. You know that, right?" A tearful smile appeared on her face, but was gone as soon as it appeared.

"And I'm really thankful for that, honest...It's just..It doesn't make this hurt any less." Monroe sighed, leaning forward as he gathered Charlie into his arms. He rubbed her back as he felt water gathering on his shoulder. _A year ago she wanted to put a bullet through that shoulder, now she's crying on it. This entire situation is messed up. _Finally, after a long period of her crying on his shoulder, her tears died down a bit. He knew it was now or never. He shifted his position, holding her so that he was looking straight into her eyes.

"Charlie, I need you to tell me what happened last night." She tensed up in his arms, but he didn't let go.

"Charlie, please..I just want to help you. Please, just tell me what's going on." She went limp- he thought she'd fallen asleep, for a second, but a small "Okay" told him she wasn't. She paused for a second before she continued.

"Bass, If I tell you...You're going to think I'm weak...please just stay quiet and let me tell this until the end. After that, I don't care. Never did." The words tugged at his heart. _If only she knew_ he mused _that I have been in the same place as her._

"It was around sundown, last night." She began to tell him all that she remembered.

~o0o~

"I was laying down, still thinking about everything that happened. And the fear, the guilt, everything, it just became overwhelming. I remembered my dad and Danny, how I was too weak to save either of them. And then mom...she didn't want me...she just left. Then she comes back, and I'm selfish enough to not want _her_ anymore. And Miles..." She paused, wiping her eye with her wrist. She sniffled for a second, and then continued.

"Miles is gone, Bass. I don't think he's ever coming home. He's probably dead, after he'd told me he wasn't going anywhere...He went somewhere! He's _gone._ When he disappeared, it was like every old would reopening. And then being kidnapped by the patriots...I don't feel safe. Everyone I love is either dead, gone, or AWOL. I have nothing, not even a false sense of security. What kind of life is that?" She was full on crying now, but still managed to continue talking. The look on Bass's face was one of the worst parts, though. _He looks like someone just broke his favorite sword._

"So, yeah. I figured, that isn't a life. That's just an existence. I didn't want to just exist, but I didn't see things getting any better. So, I did what I felt I needed to do, was going to go out the way I wanted to go out. I grabbed as much booze as I could find, and was going to down that and some of the aspirin we found a few weeks ago." She'd felt selfish wasting aspirin like that, but she had to make sure she succeeded. She wasn't weak.

"That's where I failed. I forgot to take it first and went straight to drinking. Things get really hazy about a quarter of the way through the second bottle, but I remember thinking '_I have to find it, can't keep going'_, and I remember you. You grabbed me and took the whiskey as I was trying to find the aspirin. At least, that's what I assume I was doing. _I couldn't even succeed at offing myself, Bass._" She was a mess, and she knew it. The amount she'd cried in the past five minutes was insane, but it was like she was hit with every bad memory she had. Nothing felt real. She sat in abject silence, waiting for Bass to release her from his embrace and leave, but he only held on tighter. Finally, after what felt like hours, he spoke.

"Charlie, I'm glad you didn't succeed. I can't lose anyone else." His voice sounded shaky, not at all like the Sebastian Monroe she was used to. She was about to speak, but he cut her off.

"You thought you were alone. I get that. I know how you-" _No, no you don't._

"Bass, don't you _dare_ spout that 'I know how you feel!' bull now. _You don't._" He released her from the hug, his hands on her shoulders as he looked her dead in the eyes.

"Charlie, when I was your age I did the exact same thing. I loaded up on whiskey and brought a gun to where my family was buried. Was going to do it, too. You know who stopped me? Miles. So yeah, I do know how you feel." She stared at him, shocked.

"How did I not know about this?"

"It's not really something I like to broadcast."

"Then why are you telling me?"

"To make you feel less alone. So you know I'm not bullshitting you when I say, _I know how you feel._ In a dark way, it's funny how we both tried it with whiskey." _Leave it to Bass to try and make a talk about offing ourselves lighter._ Charlie couldn't bring herself to say that she tried _killing_ herself. She let out a long sigh.

"Bass, why are you still here?" He looked hurt.

"Charlie, What do you mean? Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm weak. I tried to _kill myself_ just because I have a family that's screwed beyond repair." Bass stopped her before she could continue her train of thought.

"Never, ever, _ever _ say that again. You are _not_ weak. You're one of the strongest people I know. Everyone has their breaking point, Charlie, and you reached yours. That's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm not going to leave you- not now, not ever. Even if we manage to find Miles." Charlie smiled a bit through her tears.

~o0o~

"You mean it?" Charlie looked like someone had just handed her a bag full of diamonds. He didn't know why him telling her he wasn't going to be an ass and leave her had such an effect on her, but it did.

"Absolutely."

"I'm sorry for...falling apart like this." He gestured as if to say _don't worry about it._ Bass had been in her shoes before- the fact that she was coming clean showed just how strong she really was.

"I'm not going to let you fall apart again. Just, trust me when I say I won't leave you. I'm not going to let anything else hurt you." He felt closer than ever to Charlie, as if sharing similar horrible experiences some how tied them on a deeper level than just survival. He knew he had to protect this girl, even if he was protecting her from herself.

"Thank you, Bass...Thank you. For everything." He smiled. Her voice still sounded cracked and fragile, but he could tell she was calming down.

"Don't mention it, Charlie. Just, promise me one thing."

"Yeah?"

"Stay away from the whiskey." He winked at her, before she laughed and enveloped _him_ into a hug. It was one of the strangest things she had ever done to him, but it felt _right._ He knew he had to do something, so he did the only thing he could think of- Bass pulled back from the hug, grabbed her on the shoulders, and kissed her. She was startled at first, but soon started to kiss him back with the same level of intensity.

Once they finally broke apart, they were both smiling like Cheshire cats. They sat there for a second, foreheads touching, just enjoying each other's company. Bass knew that this kind of peace wasn't permanent, but he did know that what they had felt like nothing he'd ever experienced before (or probably would experience). At that moment, he knew that he would do anything to protect her. He wanted nothing but good for her. He would fix her one happy memory at a time. Yes, he was in love with Charlotte Matheson.

He didn't think it was possible for him to like someone more than he liked whiskey.


End file.
